When I opened my eyes the next morning, the first thing I saw was a silver tray perched on the side table—breakfast in bed. Toast, eggs, a steaming cup of coffee.
And Paulo.
He stood at the foot of the bed, a smile painted across his lips. “Good morning,” he said softly, as though last night’s cruelty had been nothing but a bad dream. “I… I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
I sat up slowly, my body heavy with the ache of yesterday’s tears. My gaze lingered on the tray, then on him.
He walked closer, setting the tray on my lap. “You have to understand, Olivia. Your sister needed help. Leah apologized already. All I wanted was peace—for everyone. For this family.”
Peace. That word stabbed at me, sharp and hollow.
But I didn’t argue. Not today. What was the use? I simply nodded, lifting the fork and eating in silence. If this was the last time Paulo wanted to play the role of a caring husband, I’d let him. Let him pretend. Let them all pretend.
For the last time.
As I ate, I couldn’t help but remember the days when I used to be sick, years ago. The scent of broth, the creak of my bedroom door, and Paulo’s voice, low and gentle, came back to me as though the years had folded in on themselves.
“Olivia,” he had whispered, sitting on the edge of my bed. His hand was cool against my fevered forehead. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Always.”
I had been so young, so desperate for comfort, that I clung to his words like they were gospel. “You promise?” My voice had been hoarse, trembling.
He had smiled, tucking the blanket tighter around me. “I promise. Forever. No matter what happens.”
My brothers had come in then, one carrying a tray of soup, the other waving a storybook like it was some great prize.
“You’re not alone, Olivia,” one of them had said, patting my hand. “We’ll always be here. That’s what family does.”
“Yes,” the other had chimed in. “Even if Leah caused trouble again, don’t worry. We’ll protect you. You’re the good one, the strong one.”
And I had believed them. Every word.
I remembered smiling weakly through my fever, whispering, “Thank you… I’m so lucky.”
Now, sitting at the table years later, the memory curdled inside me. What a fool I had been. Their promises were nothing but lies dressed as love, comfort that rotted into betrayal.
Now I knew better.
“You’ll need strength for tomorrow,” one of my brothers said as he walked in, his eyes scanning the breakfast tray. “The transplant is set. You can’t risk being weak.”
“Yes,” the other added, handing me a folder. “And you also need to sign these.”
My heart stilled. “Sign… what?”
“Documents. Company papers. It won’t take long.”
“Can it not wait?” I asked quietly, my fingers tightening around the fork.
“No,” Paulo said firmly. His tone left no room for negotiation. “What if something happens during surgery? We can’t risk it. Sign them now.”
I hesitated, staring at the stack of papers. Then, slowly, I nodded. My hand shook only slightly as I scrawled my name across line after line.
They smiled—relieved, triumphant. And just like that, they left me alone.
They had what they wanted. But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t giving them my kidney and company. Not tomorrow. Not ever.
The hours stretched endlessly, silence wrapping around me like a shroud. I sat by the window, staring out at the fading sun, when my phone buzzed. My heart leapt at the name flashing on the screen.
Cameron.
I answered with shaking hands. “Hello?”
His voice was steady, calm, like an anchor thrown into a storm. “Olivia. Listen carefully. I’ll pick you up in the middle of the night. Meet me on the rooftop. Do you understand?”
Tears blurred my eyes. “Yes.”
“I won’t let them harm you again,” he continued. “And your mother—she’s safe. I’ve already arranged for her transfer.”
Relief crashed over me, so sharp it nearly knocked the breath out of me. “Thank you,” I whispered. My voice cracked. “Cameron, thank you. In return… tell me to do something. Anything. And I’ll do it.”
There was a pause. Then, his voice, low and sure. “Just marry me and give me an heir.”
My breath caught. My heart thundered in my chest.
I closed my eyes. “I’ll see you tonight,” I whispered. Then I hung up, holding the phone to my chest as though it were my last lifeline.
But when I lifted my gaze, I froze.
Leah stood in the doorway, her hand clutching a bouquet of flowers, a sweet smile painted across her pale face. “Olivia,” she said softly. “I just wanted to thank you. For agreeing to be my donor.”
I clenched my fists. “Stop faking it. What is it you really want, Leah?”
Her smile twisted, turning cruel. A laugh slipped from her lips, delicate and venomous all at once. “What else, sister? I want you gone from our lives. Completely. So how about you just die?”
Her words sliced through me like a blade. But I didn’t flinch. Not anymore.
“Don’t worry,” I said quietly, standing to face her. “You’ll never see me again. So be happy.”
I slid the ring off my finger—the one Paulo had given me, the one that marked me as his wife. I pressed it into her palm, closing her fingers around it.
“Here. Take it. After all, I was never the wife. You are. Be happy as his wife, then.”
